Donna Please Reply

Hey Donna who wrote two comments on the "Not Gettin' By" post from two weeks back. If you are who you claim to be, I would love if you wrote a guest post showing another side of that story. My contacts are in my profile.

thanks

Stockholm Syndrome: "You Can Put the Blame On Me"

The first time I heard of Akon, I was deeply embedded in the insanity of a very swampy forest in very northern Canada. Hilkat-reooww and Matty P sang me the lyrics of his debut tune, 'Smack That', and I was so angry that I couldn't stop laughing:

I feel you creepin' I can see it from my shadow
Wanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo
Maybe go to my place and just kick it like Tae-Bo
And possibly bend ya over
Look back and watch me smack that

Now, years later, I not only know all the words to Smack That, but I feel fairly safe to say that "I celebrate his entire catalog." 'Sorry Blame it on Me', 'Nobody Wanna See Us' and 'Beautiful' are always sung with joy.

Or so I think...

---

When I first got to Liberia, one year ago, the music made me ancy to the point of not wanting to go out. The size of the playlist for the whole country is about 40 songs, plus every song Akon ever made, (which is think is roughly the same number) and there has been little turnover in the last year. And its that super annoying pop, written by musical formulas to make people sing along even if they don't really like it.

Fact: If you spend an hour or two walking the streets, you will hear the same song twice, if not 5 times. Fact: If you listen to a radio station for an hour, same deal. Literally unbelievable. And yet.

With the exception of a bit of Hi-Life from Ghana, some Nigerian tunes and a smattering of stuff from the neighbours, its generally modern American pop at its 'finest' - meaning stuff I abhorred even as a child, but with increasingly more virulence as a youth and adult.

For months, I felt oppressed, smothered, captured, trapped by these highly limited options in aural enjoyment, contrary to my vast musical interests. I hated it. Vigourously.

Subtly, imperceptibly, my internal rage drifted to muted acceptability, then finally to my current state, which I hesitate to define as love.

This transformation brought confusion when I finally reflected on this. I opened up to an expat friend, who I also noticed mouthing along to every word:

"Dude, I think I, like, love Akon."

"Dude, I know"

I felt a bit better. Not until months later - and several answer-seeking conversations - did I come across a genius of a self-made psychologist, Ms. Natasha. She succinctly diagnosed me: "You have Stockholm Syndrome, from music."

I had fallen for the captors of my musical mind. I had grown to not only accept, but love that which I hated. Even now that I know, L'il Wayne is playing from a music booth outside, and I continue to sing along. Understanding why is, apparently, only half the battle.

Sean 'MacAkon's' seminal article on the subject classified the affliction as Musical Stockholm Syndrome (MSS) - the first of the literature to define it as such. Numerous responses gleaned from his comments section verify the ubiquity of the problem in the expat community. He claims that you can be cured. Growing evidence from my own life suggests otherwise, as attempts by friends to acquaint me with new music - even stuff I objectively know I should enjoy - have largely failed to resonate.

I just keep thinking, 'it ahl-riigh, but it nah be Akon'

Predictably, I get a lot of flack for this. This is fully justified: I would make fun of me too. Especially when its found out that I can go front-to-back on other pop 'classics' such as "Put Your Number in My Phone", "If I Was a Boy" and my personal favourite, "Out of The Club":

man: Oh baby let me take you out of this club
I wanna be with you
(heyyyy-ohhhhh)
woman: Oh baby come and take me out of this club
I'll make your dreams come true
(heyyyy-ohhhh)

In my heart, I know its objectively wrong to love this music. And yet...

(Footnote: Due to a bit of confusion, I added a hyperlink above to Wikipedia's article "Stockholm Syndrome". This is the most useful quote: "One theory to explain the Stockholm syndrome is cognitive dissonance. Specifically, people don't like being unhappy for long periods of time, but when people are kidnapped for a long period of time, they will be unhappy for that time, unless they come to love their captors. Thus, to resolve the cognitive dissonance, the victim may begin to identify with the captors.)

'nuff said

Go Interweb! And Mercenaries...

Yesterday - about a week and several attempts after the post went up - I finally 'watched' my own Analog Blogger clip (posted below or here). That is to say me and Glenna laboured through 30 sec chunks of choppy footage to piece together the 4 minute slot at what must be the fastest interwebbing around.

A perfect metaphor, considering the subject matter.

I am still thinking of calling in the pigeons to solve lingering internet woes.

Also courtesy of hanging out with Glenna yesterday, I learned one of my personal fascinations (not to be confused with hero), Simon Mann and his band of mercenaries were freed yesterday from 'living hell', after around 5 years of incarceration (though only 14 months in E.G.) following allegations of trying to overthrow Equatorial Guinea's government.

Imagine hearing this before being extradited (from Daily Mail article above):

According to sources inside Equatorial Guinea, the President has promised his henchmen that once Mann, a close friend of Sir Mark Thatcher, is extradited to Black Beach, he will be paraded in triumph to his palace in the old port of Malabo to be sodomised personally by the President before being skinned alive.

Such taunts are typical of a man who reportedly thinks nothing of torturing and executing his political opponents once they have reached the jail.

One political opponent, Pedro Motu Mamiaga, is said to have had his liver removed - which the President then ate.

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-455635/True-hell-earth-Simon-Mann-faces-imprisonment-cruellest-jail-planet.html#ixzz0Vu8qPuU3

"Inconceivable..."

Fellow Blogger

I have had quite a few requests to link more of my journalistic work off this blog. So, that shall be done. Due to the fact that I am not a full-time journalist, I am not always writing articles, and not everything comes out online. That's a partial excuse.

As it turns out, a lot of stuff I was plugging away at during the winter and spring from last year is set to roll out.

Here is an example, and an attempt to share more info: my internet TV debut, on Vice's Motherboard Project:



link:
http://www.motherboard.tv/2009/10/27/monrovian-analog-blogger

Save the Big Mac!

As the Western world frets and fawns over how to help 'the rest' (while staying rich, obvi), evidence is beginning to suggest that maybe they might have to start helping 'their own'. Shocking news out of Iceland - who, with a predicted 8.5% slump in the economy this year, will be at the bottom of the exclusive 33-country list of 'developed' nations.

This article suggests a massive consequence on this nation's Western psyche.

Icelanders like Jon Ogmundsson have endured many hardships in the last year, including soaring inflation, rising unemployment and a banking crisis so serious the country nearly declared bankruptcy.

Now Iceland's battered economy is claiming one more victim – McDonald's.

That's right: A developing nation will soon be without a Mickey-Dees. Even Dambisa Moyo might push for aid intervention to avoid such a travesty.

Regardless of the inane nature of such news, I do think that the accompanying graphic depicting countries purchasing power of Big Mac's, McChicken et al is interesting for a number of reasons.



Final questions:

How many African nations sport the golden arches?
How long until Liberia gets infiltrated?

(Props Liz for the article)

Not Gettin' By

Hopefully not a metaphor for the future of Monrovia's vendors

Gettin' by in Monrovia requires some serious hustle, long hours, and perseverance. Hawkers, vendors, sellers, loaders, movers, temporary workers and others struggle constantly to make ends meet. And, it keeps getting harder.

Though it seems to have plateaued for now, the loss in value of the Liberian dollar - the staple of the informal economy - hurts the purchasing power of the sellers. Most goods demand USD to purchase, and that price stays at a flat rate, regardless of the infamous LD.


At the street level, its been a tough go for petty traders as of late. For anyone who's been in Monrovia in the past 6 months, you well know about "General" Mary Broh, the Acting City Mayor, and presidential clean up task force designate.

To greatly summarize, Broh is a tough cookie with seeming boundless power. She rolls with a pretty intense posse that includes security guards, dump trucks, bulldozers and lots of strong hands wielding lots of destruct-or tools. On 'good' days, they know to demo full neighbourhoods, clearing out anyone and anything living in 'illegal' structures or on 'private' land.

Street vendors are routinely seen fleeing the scene of zinc and wood being ripped to the ground, and crowds raging against The General, carrying their booths and wares, half laughing, half crying.

In some ways, her quest is understandable. The city's a frickin' mess, and people use this as license to perpetuate completely unhealthy living conditions. However, breaking down homes and shops of people who make earn in the 'Gettin By' bracket - around $5 - 10/day, which often supports several people - solves nothing. What does someone who's savings means whatever they have in their back pocket at that exact moment do when all their bizness gets destroyed?

Crime comes to mind, so does starving and not being able to buy meds.

Equally ridiculous are new city ordinances meant to further regulate these vendors. Ridiculous because 'crimes' such as selling in street booths, hawking foodstuffs without providing a garbage can and littering all carry stiff fines: between $100 - 200 USD. Just to emphasize how nuts that is, government employees make $ 80 /month, and the average per person GDP is $ 400 (yes, per year.)

People sell on the streets because THERE ARE NO REAL JOBS. Mainly because people in the same economic class as Mary Broh steal money by the truckload, thus inhibiting real growth. 500 Grand goes missing for a road. 1.1 million intended for health care: what happened? And most recently, $350 000 in 'shadow salaries' with Minister of Information Bropleh's signature on it.

So why should anyone have the right to stop people trying to scrape 5 bucks together? Like so many things here, its is very frustrating to watch government focusing so much energy on making sure the sidewalks are clear of people selling goods when so many worthwhile causes literally have to beg for funding and attention.

Besides, why deny Liberian residents the truly awesome ability to walk past a line of wheelbarrows, and, in a matter of minutes and brief exchanges, end up with a coconut, some rat poison, a t-Shirt saying "I'm With Stupid" on top of a sideways arrow, bread and eggs, toothpicks, batteries, a bag of sugar, and a new lock for your door?!?

That should be encouraged. Whenever and wherever possible.

Gettin By - Hawking T-Shirts

This blog post is part of a larger series called 'Gettin' By', which profiles petty traders, street sellers, vendors and other members of the informal market who are part of the reported 85% of Liberians without jobs.

Click on the 'Gettin' By' search term to see past articles, or read on.

Profession: Selling T-Shirts

Location: Strategically placed wheelbarrows; roving wheelbarrows; roving sellers with
hangers of shirts

How it works:

There are a lot of bizarre things about the supply chains in this country. I don't know if I actually fully understand the t-shirt supply chain - mainly due to heavily conflicting reports - but this is what I do know.

T-shirts in Liberia largely come from the US. Most are donated, but it is not abundantly clear to me through what means. Certainly, a lot of the shirts that end up here en masse are manufacture rejects that either get donated by the companies, or more likely, sold on the little-known international used t-shirt market.

But, for the majority of t-shirts that read anything from "Auntie Louise's XXXLenent 50th" to "Waco Texas Swim Club" to homemade renditions of "Rock Out With Your Cock
Out" (seen yesterday on an old woman, and me... without a camera! shhheeeeet...) they are donations from individuals.

Now here is where I am most unclear. One friend told me that all T-shirts from the US route through East Africa; Dar es Salaam and Nairobi to be specific. I personally have a hard time believing this (look at a map), but their insistence on the matter was based in experience, so I'll just say that.

Another version of the story is that these are gathered through t-shirt drives and other auspices of 'giving' to people who need them, and then whoever forks out the change to fill the sea cans (about 12 G to ship from US) takes a cut at the port.

Yet another version has Lebanese and other merchants buying bulk shirts from places like Goodwill at pretty low prices, fronting the shipping cross, and making it all up on this end.

More pessimistic versions argue that co opted aid missions and misappropriations of unguarded, low-value goods while in ports become too enticing for longshoremen et al to bear (yo: watch The Wire season two if you don't think that is a possibility).

Anyways, I think its mainly the middle two options, with perhaps a touch of the first and healthy dab of the last option. If anyone wants to pay me to do a real article on this subject, I will expend much more time and effort and solve the supply riddle.

Moving on to easier empirics.

Sea cans on the back of trailers deliver the t-shirts to wholesalers in vaccuum packed bags labeled 'boys sports' or 'women t's.' They cost $ 100 US for about a 3 foot cube. Although sometimes the trucks serve as the wholesalers, just parking themselves in Waterside market, and selling to whoever crowds the truck.

These wholesalers are exclusively Lebanese who have connections in the port. They expect the payments in USD, even though their shirt sellers receive all payments in LD (note: this links back to the post on Changing Money, and how the money cutting works)

So Liberian sellers get the bundles, unpack them, and fill up wheelbarrows, either splitting the packs, or going it solo: a relatively big investment for petty traders.

The packs vary, but for adult sized t's there tends to be about 70 - 100 per 'bushel'- the shirts are also sorted by quality, and the higher quality ones have less per cube. Of course, there is no recourse if you receive less, or if quality does not match expectations, its just a typical 'hope I don't screwed on this one'.

So, shirts can be had for as low as 70 LD in the city centre ($ 1 US), but most tend to fall between $ 90 - 150 LD ($US 1.40 - $ 2.10). For selling a cube, vendors try to make $ 10 - 15. This is not usually possible in a day, but sellers willing to 'hel you wih speciah price my man!' take the route of selling more for lower price to add up the day. So, they'll roll a barrow into a crowded place and yell "no more 150, pay 90," reveling in the ensuing buying frenzy.

Most shirt vendors say they are happy to clear $ 500 - 600 LD, or 7 - 8 bucks, though many make much less.

As usual, 'wafer thin margins'. (nate...)

Variables: New city laws that discourage petty trading, 'the rai-in!', getting spoiled shirts,

Price Point Comparison:

if you live in Paynesville, Bardnersville or Stephen Tolbert estates and sell in town - which many do - it costs $ 40 LD for transport each way, 80 LD per day; more than 1/8 of your wages.